


Bleed It Out

by river_soul



Series: Control [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Biting, Bullying, F/M, grooming behavior, physical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 18:20:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/river_soul/pseuds/river_soul
Summary: When a probationary agent asks you out on a date you learn Steve’s intentions for you have evolved. He doesn’t take kindly to someone touching what’s his.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: Control [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191674
Comments: 8
Kudos: 61





	Bleed It Out

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part three of my mini series called Control. Thank you @mashep23 for beta’ing this. I’m supposed to be working on my sweet Bucky story but uh, this happened. Whoops.

"My hearing is pretty fucking spectacular," Steve grunts. "Didn't think I'd hear your pathetic attempts to flirt with Agent Meyer?" He asks.

The hand around your throat keeps you from answering him. It's all you can do to make a pained gasp as he ruts into you harder. The edge of the desk bites into your thighs and with the way Steve lays his body over yours, he's nearly crushing you. 

"Please," you rasp, vision going spotty before he finally lifts off of you. The hand around your neck loosens enough for you to suck in air loudly, lungs burning. As cruel as Steve could be to you, he was never this angry or so out of control. 

"Thought he'd be interested in this?" Steve asks, grabbing a handful of your ass hard enough to have you sobbing into his desk. It burns, the way he pinches your skin together. "Even if he was actually interested in anything but that sweet little cunt, it isn't yours to give up. You know why?"

When you don't answer, Steve grabs a fistful of hair and jerks your body up against his. An arm around your stomach keeps you in place as he fucks you harder and faster. Your legs burn and tremble from the force of it and it's all you can do to let your head fall back against his shoulder. 

"That's it," Steve tells you, lips ghosting over your cheek almost sweetly. "Your body isn't yours sweetheart, it's mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to hurt. Mine to do whatever I want with. Tell me," he demands. 

You shake your head, breath catching in your throat when he hits that sweet spot inside that nearly has you keening and asking for more. This is the part you hate most of all, the way he makes your body bend to his will and how expertly he draws pleasure from you. The hand around your stomach drops and you feel his fingers brush over your clit, applying just enough pressure to rip a moan from between your clenched teeth. 

He chuckles, the mirthless sound loud against your ear. He repeats the action, unrelenting, until you're overwrought and at the cusp of your orgasm. Just as you're about to fall over the edge, he stills and draws his hand away. 

"Tell me," he whispers, teeth grazing over your pulse point. 

Your whole body is trembling, desperate for release, but you clench your jaw to remain quiet. In the months since the gym, Steve's never wanted you to speak, more interested in drawing out pained whimpers and gasps. You're not sure why Agent Meyer's casual but persistent flirting has set him off. You're not entirely sure he even likes you beyond what he takes from your body. 

"If you don't tell me, I'm gonna have to _really_ hurt you," he threatens, biting down hard on the side of your neck.

The hand he wraps around your mouth muffles your scream when his teeth break the skin, white-hot pain shooting up your neck. You struggle against him, the movement forcing his cock further inside your body. You sob quietly, fingers clawing at him, but Steve doesn't relent until you tire yourself out against him, your sobs quieting to pitiful little sniffles and hiccups. His fingers stroke over your soft stomach, encouraging you to calm down. 

"Last time," he warns you. "Why can't you go out with Agent Meyers?"

"Because I belong to you," you whisper, trembling in his hold. 

"Knew you were a smart girl" Steve says, tongue laving over his bite mark. "You belong to me and even though you don't deserve it, I'm going to let you come because you squeeze my cock so fucking tight when you do."

His fingers return to your clit as he starts rutting into you again with deep, powerful thrusts. It doesn't take long for him to bring you back to the precipice, fingers working furiously until you come with a sob. You bear down on him hard enough to make him come with a desperate choked sound.

"So fucking good," he pants, thrusting lazily into you as you feel his come leak out and drip down your thighs. "Your soft body was made to be fucked by me," he praises.

The bite mark on your neck throbs with the rest of your body as you lean against him and try to catch your breath. For whatever reason, Steve seems content to stay like this, hands sweeping over your body in firm gentle strokes. He dips a hand between your thighs and passes a finger over your bundle of nerves, making you jerk in his grasp and grunt in pain. He pulls away from you with a chuckle. 

You redress in silence, bending down to pick up your dress and bra from the floor where Steve threw them earlier. There's no underwear to find, Steve doesn't like you to wear any. He’s fully dressed when you turn around to face him, combing his hair back into place with his hands. He looks sweaty and flushed and you know you probably look even worse. Like always, you stand perfectly still and let him adjust your clothes and hair, erasing any evidence of what he's just done to you. 

"Fix your makeup," he tells you, pushing your purse into your hands. 

You turn away from him, pulling out a compact as you survey your ruined mascara and smudged lipstick. With a sigh, you set to work on cleaning off your makeup with the wipes you've learned to keep in your purse and reapplying everything carefully. When you finish, Steve comes up behind you. His warm breath washes over your neck, making your skin crawl. You close your eyes briefly and press your lips together to stop them from trembling. 

"Shit, I got you good," he remarks, running a finger over his bite mark. 

When you try to step away from him, a hand on your arm stops you. 

"Stay still. Can’t send you out there still bleeding."

The sharp smell of rubbing alcohol makes your nose twitch and you hiss when he presses a cotton pad against the mark. The skin burns and tingles as he wipes and disinfects it. He blows gently over the skin when he's done, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. He doesn't pull away from you until he's slathered a thick cream over the wound and applied a bandage over it.

"If anyone asks, just tell them you burned yourself with a curling iron."

You swallow heavily and nod. You don't even own a curling iron, let alone use one but Steve doesn't care. 

"Turn around," he instructs. 

He looks you over critically, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. There’s a little rip at the collar of your dress where Steve got impatient earlier but it’s small, not noticeable unless you’re looking for it. 

"Good enough," he tells you. 

You relax at his pleased tone, but before you can move away he pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger and leans down to kiss you. He forces his tongue in your mouth, groaning as he squeezes the flesh of your hips. He only started this recently and you liked it better when he didn’t. Even when he’s rough, kissing him feels too intimate.

“I’d love to stay for round two but I need to teach Agent Meyers a lesson about keeping his hands to himself,” Steve tells you with a cruel smile. 

“He didn’t know,” you say quietly. “No one does.”

“Maybe it’s time we change that, hmm?” Steve says with a smile, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. His touch is soft, kind even but the malice in his gaze is unmistakable. 

“A few broken fingers seem like enough to get the message across.”

When you blanch he grins. 

“Sometimes I get carried away in the training sessions,” Steve tells you, an earnest expression on his face. “Gee, really sorry about that. Guess I don’t know my own strength,” he mocks. 

When you shake your head, his expression darkens and you take a fearful step back. 

“You don’t tell me no, remember?” He asks.

“I remember,” you say quietly, dropping your eyes to the floor. You want to leave but you know better than to go until he dismisses you.

“Don’t look so fucking put out,” he tells you. “Thousands of girls and probably a few men would love to be on my arm.”

“Why don’t you pick one of them,” you whisper, regretting the slip almost immediately when Steve goes rigid. “I’m sorry,” you say quickly, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

Steve clenches his jaw and his lip curls over his perfectly white teeth. The sight makes your neck throb. 

“We’ll address that little outburst later,” he tells you. “I’m sure Maria’s looking for you.”

You hurry and grab your bag to leave but Steve’s voice stops you at the door.

“Clear your calendar for the weekend. Tony’s hosting a gala in the city and you’re going with me. Consider it our coming out party.”


End file.
